It was music that pulled me through. It was music that could lead me to a tranquil world where there was no pain. Music has helped me in ways unimaginable to that narrow minded Sadie. If I told her, would she understand? If she knew, would she believe me? One chapter per week, a novelette, read about Ana and how a foreign band saved her life. T for language.

The unclear notes, like a fog coating, dragged at your feet. The noisy beat, like a crashing roar of thunder, drowned out your thoughts. And most importantly, the words and the lyrics, and the sound of the singer's voice, like an insane screech, shooting fear and pain through you.

My mom... I was suddenly thrown mercilessly into the sudden onslaught of memories. Her thin smile, her glazed over eyes, her loud voice. I could feel and hear everything again.

There was a silence that I knew. I'd heard it when I had received a call from the police. My curiosity was overwhelming and I felt like I was going to drown in my thoughts.

"Your mom, Ana... she's... dead."

"Dead?" I felt my eyes widen, and felt all the fight in me leak out. Her. Dead. "How? How's that even possible?"

"She suicided, Ana."

"Suicided?" I said weakly. I felt shaky. Off. Like something inside was wrong and messed up. It was like I was breaking apart. I leaned back against the couch.I lowered the phone and found my hand trembling.